Shit.
“What’s this about you having a kid, Brick?” Jasper Flint spoke up suddenly, his eyes somewhat glassy and his words slurred.
“Total bullshit.” He bristled, feeling pissy. He forced a smile, knowing he had dropped out of character briefly. He was their good-time boy. The guy for whom all the shit rolled off and never stuck.
Every conversation ceased, and every single head at the table turned toward him.
“A kid? Not Brick. At least not any he’d claim,” Matt joked, shaking his head incredulously at Jasper. “You’re cut off, Flint. You’ve had enough tonight.”
Brick didn’t say a word, but he could feel the color drain from his face.
“Yeah, a kid,” Flint defended himself. “I overhead Ice and Coop talking about it. Dumped on his doorstep a few days ago. A little girl.”
The bastards erupted into peals of laughter. Brick glowered, not finding the situation funny in the least.
Finally, Matt wiped the tears from his eyes and leveled Brick with his best alternate captain’s glare. “Is it true? You’re a daddy?”
“Brick a daddy? No fucking way in hell,” chortled the rookie, Gage “Ziggy” Ziegler. The dickhead made it sound like Brick would be the worst father ever. Even if that was true, he didn’t need a rookie pointing it out. He leveled a glare at Ziggy, who was bent over with laughter. The fucker.
“Are you?” Drew blinked several times, trying to focus through an alcohol-induced haze.
Gritting his teeth, Brick nodded, and another round of laughter shook the fucking table. It’d be a long time before he heard the end of this.
“Oh my God, can you see Brick playing Barbies or wearing a pink tiara and entertaining a houseful of girls at a princess party?” Mike Gibson held his sides and spit out most of his beer, his face turning bright red.
Let the jerk choke. Brick didn’t find any of this amusing.
“She’s not mine. Seriously. She was dropped on my doorstep with a note claiming she’s mine, and her mom’s dead. I have my people looking into it. I’m sure it’s some kind of scam. We’re running the DNA.”
Snickers went around the table from some, while other guys stared at him skeptically. They didn’t buy his story.
“So you have custody?” Matt frowned at him.
“Uh, right now.”
“Where is she?” As if on cue, they glanced around the room as if they expected to see some little girl who looked like a female version of Brick skipping into the room.
“With the nanny.”
Rush perked up. “A sexy nanny?”
“She’s not—” Brick paused. His nanny was hot, really hot, but if these assholes discovered how hot she was they’d be moving in. “She’s older than my mother and has hair growing out of her ears.”
Rush shuddered. “Why did you not hire hot nanny?” Rush knew him too well.
“I ran out of time.” Brick grinned, finally gaining his stride. He couldn’t let these guys get the best of him, or they’d chew him up and spit him out. Most of them ate nails for breakfast.
Rush muttered something sounding like “stupid dumbshit.”
“It’s only temporary until I can prove she’s not mine and find her a suitable home.” He was making excuses, giving a voice to his hopes and wondering if he was deluding himself.
“What if she’s yours?” Gibson’s mouth twitched, and his eyes lit up with devious mirth.
Brick opened his mouth, snapped it shut, and sighed. That was the million-dollar question.
“Yeah, Brick. What if it’s not temporary?” Matt spoke solemnly.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Your mother vill take care of her?” Rush asked hopefully. He didn’t want to lose his best party buddy.
Brick shook his head. “Nah, not in the near future. They’re in Europe until the first of December.”
Another chorus of laughter rang around the table. Brick forced out a few hollow chuckles. These guys couldn’t see his pain, or they’d gang up on him like a pack of rabid dogs hunting down an injured fawn. Not that Brick was a fawn exactly. More like a buck.
It was fucking time to change the subject and put that blinding interrogation light on someone else. “Hey, fuckers, what’s the injury status for Sunday’s game?”
Brick patted himself on the back as his teammates launched into a heated debate as to whether or not the Rangers’ starting goalie’s supposed knee injury would give them an edge. The team had a veteran backup who was just as good.
Brick sat back and drank his beer. Two more weeks and his life would be back to normal.
* * * *
Amelia glanced at her watch and impatiently rapped on Macy’s bathroom door for the fourth time.
“Honey, we need to get going. I have to be at day care in ten minutes. Do you need any help?”
“I’m fine. I don’t want to go to day care.” Macy’s petulant voice reverberated through the wooden door.
“You don’t get a vote on this one. Besides, you like day care.” Amelia wasn’t so sure about that, but being positive was better than pointing out the negative. Brick should enroll the child in kindergarten. She was old enough.
She knew little about his life with his daughter, but it didn’t take a Rhodes scholar to figure out the man wasn’t used to being a father. She avoided the subject of a mother with Macy, and little girl never brought it up.
Two weeks of this, and she’d walk away with a generous sum in her pocket. All she had to do was avoid Mr. Playboy’s advances, which should be few and far between considering he was on a ten-day road trip.
Unfortunately, Amelia wasn’t the type who could take the money and run. There was something about Macy that broke her heart. At moments, she saw the sadness and confusion in the little girl’s eyes. She was hurting, and Brick was clueless, if he even cared at all. So far, she’d witnessed a self-absorbed father with little involvement in his daughter’s life. In fact, so little he only needed the services of a nanny for two weeks.
What happened at the end of two weeks?
Did Macy go back to her mother? Did Brick pawn her off on a family member? Or did he hire a permanent nanny?
None of this was Amelia’s business, but when had that ever stopped her?
With forced patience, she tried the knob. It turned. She opened the door a crack. Inside, Macy sat on the floor, hugging her doll and rocking back and forth. When she looked up at Amelia, her eyes were filled with unshed tears and her cheeks were streaked with shed ones.
Amelia’s throat ached, and she crossed the room and knelt next to Macy, speaking in a soft, gentle tone. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Macy shrugged and curled herself into a tighter ball.
Amelia touched her shoulder, and Macy jerked away from her.
Knowing she’d never give birth to a child of her own, she’d focused her career on working with children and was starting her third year majoring in child studies. She’d taken classes on how to recognize trouble signs in children. But a person didn’t need a college professor to tell her something was wrong here.
“Macy.” She patted her arm. Macy stiffened but didn’t pull back this time. Small steps toward progress.
“I want to go home.” She sniffled in the most pitiful, heart-wringing voice.
“This isn’t home?” Amelia asked carefully.
“No! I want to go home.”
“Where is home?”
Macy shrugged her hunched shoulders. “Not here.”
Okay, this line of questioning wasn’t getting her anywhere. “How about you and I spend the day together. Just the two of us. We can buy you some new clothes, get ice cream, and maybe go to the zoo.”
Macy uncoiled herself a little. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I’ve never been to a zoo. Can we get Simone some new clothes, too?”
“Ah, yes, we’ll see if we can find some. Let me make a call. Why don’t you wash your face and put on your shoes?”
“Okay,” Macy
said in a small yet more hopeful voice.
Amelia left the room and dialed her sister-in-law.
Ruby answered on the first ring. “Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m going to spend the day with Macy. I won’t be able to come in. You’ll have to manage the kids on your own.”
“But I have a mani-pedi scheduled this a.m.,” Ruby whined.
“Sorry. Can’t make it.”
“Well, that’s selfish of you. I can’t handle these children on my own.”
Amelia bit her tongue. She couldn’t begin to count the times Ruby had left her alone with the children and never gave a thought to it. Besides, most of the kids were in school right now. “Call in my backup.”
“Fine. You’ll be here tomorrow?” Ruby sulked worse than a spoiled child.
“Yes, I promise.” Amelia hung up before Ruby could say another word and wondered for the millionth time why her laid-back brother had ever married such a bitch.
She heard a noise behind her and turned to find Macy staring up at her. She had on her shoes, her hair was somewhat brushed, and her face was wet but not from tears.
“Can I gets some cereal for Simone? She’s hungry.”
“She is, is she?”
Like a little monkey, Macy nodded and climbed onto a barstool. She sat her doll next to her. Amelia served them both a bowl of cereal and some for herself.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.”
Macy wolfed down the cereal as if she hadn’t eaten in months. More likely she was anxious to get to the zoo.
A few minutes later, she loaded Macy into the car and off they went.
Macy had fallen silent again, and Amelia didn’t push her. The child had warmed up slightly, and she needed to do this in her own time. Amelia knew nothing of her background and what kinds of scars she was dealing with. She’d ask Brick, but she suspected the man wouldn’t know a damn thing, either. She wasn’t convinced he cared enough to find out. The man was infuriatingly—
Hot?
Lickable?
And also a selfish, conceited, entitled professional athlete.
How she could hold a man in such disdain and want to have dirty, nasty sex with him all night long was one of the unsolved mysteries of life, especially her life.
She parked at the mall, which was just opening for the day, and led Macy inside. They walked along, window-shopping. Macy grew more and more animated as they walked, pointing at things with the enthusiasm only a child could have.
At one point, Macy tugged on her hand. “Can we go in here?”
The boutique toy store window brimmed with unusual and expensive toys, as would be expected in upscale Bellevue Square. Amelia grinned. She had Brick’s credit card, so the sky was the limit.
“Absolutely.”
Together they walked through the store. Macy stared in awe at the unique toys, beautiful dolls, and amazing stuffed animals. She paused occasionally to reverently touch an item until something near the back of the store caught her eye. Her excited shriek pierced the air. She started running, pulling Amelia along with her.
Macy yanked her hand free of Amelia’s and knelt before the cutest, most realistic toy horse barn Amelia had ever seen. The gambrel-roofed wooden structure was about two feet by two and a half feet with a hayloft. Inside was an aisle with three stalls on each side, complete with hinged doors. On the outside were realistic sliding stall doors. The heads of Breyer horses poked out the openings. The barn was painted white with blue trim, obviously one of a kind and not mass-produced.
A smiling saleswoman quickly moved to stand beside Amelia. “Isn’t it beautiful? A local craftsman makes these to order exclusively for us. What little girl isn’t crazy about horses?”
“Pretty much none of them,” Amelia admitted.
“It’s built to last. Generations of children will be able to enjoy it.”
Amelia’s throat constricted, and she blinked several times, irritated that such an innocent remark dredged up sorrows best left buried. She’d never have this experience with a biological child of her own, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Forcing a smile, Amelia nodded and bent down to check the price tag. Six hundred and fifty dollars.
“Does it come with the horses?”
“Oh, no, the horses are separate.”
Of course they were.
Macy glanced up from the horse she was prancing around the stable yard. “Could I have it? Please, Amelia. I promise to be a good girl. You don’t have to take me to the zoo.”
The saleswoman pointed out a few other miniature and amazingly realistic items, including a leather saddle and bridle, hay bales, pitchfork, rail fencing. You name it, this barn had more stuff than the real thing. Every single piece boasted a hefty price tag. All in all, one thousand dollars of Brick’s money would be invested in his daughter’s horse farm.
A slow smile spread across Amelia’s face.
His money.
For a little girl he didn’t seem to notice.
Oh, yeah. Feeling a bit devious and a lot vindictive, Amelia spoke to the salesperson. “We’ll take all of it.”
Macy clapped her hands and leaped to her feet. She hugged Amelia tightly. Amelia hugged her back, fighting the now-happy tears that threatened to choke her.
She cleared her throat and smiled. “Macy, pick four horses. We’ll get those, too.”
Macy danced around the barn a few times, giggling, then skipped to the shelves of Breyer horses. Her jubilant face turned serious. She brought a hand up to her lower lip as she studied each horse as if this were the most difficult decision of her short life.
“Do you deliver?” Amelia asked.
“Certainly. We can arrange a delivery.”
Amelia wasn’t surprised. A high-end toy store like this wouldn’t expect its customers to load up such large toys and take them home themselves. “Great. I’ll need a car seat, too, but I’ll take that with me.”
By the time the entire transaction was rung up, she’d charged $1,587 to Brick’s credit card. They left the store with the saleswoman’s promise to have the barn delivered by late afternoon.
Macy was the model child after that. She patiently tried on clothes, even as she quivered with excitement. Loaded with shopping bags of girls’ clothes, underwear, and shoes, Amelia and Macy walked to the car. Brick’s credit card chalked up another thousand in charges. The child had needed clothes, and Amelia felt little guilt.
Martin Bricker needed to step up and care for this child in the manner in which he could afford, which was a lot. She’d Googled his current salary, which was in the seven figures annually. She’d never make that much in an entire lifetime of working.
After all, what was a few dollars when it put such a smile on a child’s face?
They skipped the zoo, and after lunch headed back to the condo to wait for the barn delivery. Macy insisted the barn be put in the middle of the living room across from the huge TV. The first thing you saw when you walked in the front door was a large toy barn, complete with corrals and horses.
That’d cramp any playboy’s style, Amelia thought wickedly, even as she wondered why she cared. Her concerns centered on Macy. She couldn’t care less about Brick’s lifestyle, as long as it didn’t affect his daughter. Once he returned from his road trip, she had a short period of time to make the man accept his responsibilities, and she’d use every opportunity she had.
Chapter 5—Shot to the Heart
Arriving home from the road trip, Brick dragged his tired ass into the house about 4:00 a.m. Not bothering to turn on any lights, he tiptoed down the hallway, stopping to nudge the thermostat down a few notches. He hesitated near Amelia’s door and regretfully forced his feet to walk on past.
Later.
He turned toward his own bedroom door and came to an abrupt halt. Driven by the inexplicable need to check on Macy, he pivoted and peeked in. She lay on her stomach, her eyes closed and her face the picture of childlike inno
cence. A slow grin crossed his face, and his chest ached for no good reason he could discern. He shut the door quietly and immediately went to bed. Not that he slept any. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind a jumble of thoughts bouncing from Macy to Amelia and back again. He didn’t know which one disturbed him the most.
A few hours later, he heard Macy and Amelia bustling around the house. He’d already warned Amelia he’d be home early morning and asked her to take Macy to day care and bring her home that evening.
He could’ve picked Macy up, but he liked having an excuse to corner Amelia in his home. She’d gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t shake her lose. Not to mention, he was in the middle of a dry spell. He couldn’t recall his last celibate road trip. It was almost unheard of.
About 9:00 a.m., Brick dozed until he heard insistent rapping on his front door. He ignored the pounding and pulled a pillow over his head. His phone rang, followed by the buzzing of text messages.
Scowling, he sat up in bed and grabbed his phone to read the messages. That asshole Rush was at the door. He’d probably fallen right to sleep and gotten several hours, unlike Brick, who’d made tossing and turning an Olympic sport.
Now wide-awake, Brick didn’t bother with clothes and staggered down the hallway to the front door. He paused to turn the heat down to a tolerable temperature. No reason to sweat like a pig when the kid wasn’t here.
Yanking the door open, he glowered at Rush. “What the fuck are you doing here at this hour?”
Rush snorted and pushed his way in, toting a six-pack of Brick’s favorite microbrew. Perhaps he could forgive him, since he’d brought his favorite beer. “It’s two in the afternoon. I brought lunch.” Rush lived in the same complex and often dropped in without an invitation.
“Beer? For lunch? Let me get dressed.” Brick started to turn down the hall, but Rush had frozen in place, staring horrified into his living room as if there were a Sasquatch in it ready to have them both for lunch.
Goaltending: Seattle Sockeyes Hockey (Game On in Seattle Book 8) Page 5
